


Can't Always Get What You Want

by Mello_McQueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 07:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mello_McQueen/pseuds/Mello_McQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron’s not ungrateful; he just wants them to want what he has for a change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Always Get What You Want

**Author's Note:**

> written at: July 1st, 2010.

It’s hard being the youngest son. The one with all the hand-me-down clothes that never quite fit right and have all your other brother’s names stitched into the fabric, so that when people look at you they say: "Oh, hi …Charlie?" and you say, "Ron. Charlie’s my brother. He lives in Romania and works with dragons."

And a part of you is proud of that fact, but another part resents the way people look at you and say: “do _you_ work with dragons?” because then you have to tell them no. "No, I don’t but I know a little but about them. My brother always tells me stories and I-" but no one wants to hear about that.

They smile and politely say goodbye, sometimes they just leave. You stand by yourself and shuffle your feet and watch them as they talk to other people; your mother, your father who works for the ministry, Percy who is smart enough to be Minister of Magic, himself someday and Fred and George who everyone loves because they always make the best inventions; jokes and silly tricks and things.

Not like you. All you have is yourself because nothing you own has ever really been yours before. Not until now. Now you’re eleven, and at Hogwarts with a wand of your own, the first real pair of new shoes you can ever remember having and a friend. A real friend, Harry Potter, who is yours and not just someone your brother’s didn’t want anymore.

You think about this fact all through dinner and at night when you go to sleep in Gryffindor Tower with Harry and the others. (Distantly, you think their names are Sean and Dan and you know for a fact that that one kid who stutters sometimes is called Neville, but you haven’t been paying too much attention to the others, so you could be wrong…)

In the morning, Harry shakes you awake and tells you that you’ll miss breakfast if you don’t hurry so you climb out of bed, get dressed and head downstairs. On the way, you thank him for waiting on you and he smiles and says, "of course, Ron."

You think he’s a really great non-hand-me-down-friend and later when you’ve got a minute alone you find Percy. He’s talking to a pretty girl with brown hair. You say "Guess what, Percy? I’m friends with Harry Potter."

Percy turns to look at you, agitation marking his features. As the girl takes her chance to escape unnoticed, Percy frowns and says, offhandedly: "Yes, Ron I’d noticed. Unless he just likes having his ear talked off – now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy." And with that he turns back around to find the girl gone and grumbling, heads off down the corridor.

With a sigh, you go to find Fred and George. They’re hold up in the Gryffindor Common Room in one of the far corners, whispering, plotting _something._ "Hey, guys." You say, casually approaching. "Guess what?"

"What?" Fred asks, looking up at you with a grin. "Find any spiders in your room?"

"No." You respond, shivering and indignantly slap George’s hand away as it begins to crawl towards you in mid-air. Pushing the thought out of your mind, you continue: "I’m friends with Harry Potter."

Fred and George gasp in union, equal sounds of mock-surprise. “Are you really?” They ask, “We hadn’t noticed!” and then they start to laugh and Fred reaches out and pushes you gently away as George says, “Go away, Ron. Stop bothering us.” And Fred adds, "Yeah, we’re busy."

You sigh and think about asking them what it is they’re ‘busy’ doing, but you know they won’t tell you so you go outside and wander the corridors. Being careful not to stray too far, you walk, dragging your feet as you think about your brothers. They don’t say it, but you bet they’re jealous. And you scuff the tips of your new shoes against the stone floor, wear holes into the soles.

 _Yes, that’s it; they’re_ mad _jealous._


End file.
